Play
by Darth Gojira
Summary: Hermione wants to assert herself in her marriage, and Fleur wants to make sure she does. Hermione has to prove to Fleur and Neville that she's the one in charge, but she also has to prove it to herself
1. Playing Dressup

Hermione Granger had to place flowers on Dobby's grave as she passed it by on her way to the Shell Cottage. She could never forget him and his heroic sacrifice. She would always get flowers, courtesy of Neville, to place on the grave. Indeed, it was on this pretext, she told him, she was going there. She liked Bill and had even grown fond of Fleur in time, but they weren't close like Harry or Ron. Still, it was to Fleur she was going to for advice.

She knocked on the elegant door, knowing this way Fleur's day off from work while Bill would be away. Sure enough, the French witch opened the door and beamed at the younger woman.

"'ermione! What a pleasure it is to see you again! Come in, come in!"

"Thank you, Fleur" It had taken a long time for Hermione to befriend Fleur. She was almost always perky, extravagant, and vain, and she had hated having to spend time at the Burrow with her. In time, she finally realized she meant well, and her kind soul surprised her.

"Are you just saying hello, or is it something else?"

"It's...something else. For, um, me and Neville"

Fleur tilted her blonde head as she sat down.

"Well?"

"It's just that...things get boring, and I want to...play with him for doing something"

A gleam entered the part-Veela's eyes.

"Oh. That. I'm glad you came to me, then. What do you have in mind?" she steepled her fingers as a playful smile broke on her pale face.

"I want to..." Hermione searched for the proper verb, "tease him"

"Souivez moi, cheri" The grin didn't leave her face as she left her chair and glided her way to the bedroom.

Hermione followed, curious about what exactly she was planning.

"First, what do you have? Show me" Fleur planted her hands on her hips as Hermione closed the door behind her.

"Pardon?" Brown eyebrows rose in surprise

"Take off your clothes and show me what you have. Your hair needs a little bit more combing, and you have a pleasant face" Fleur steeped over and stroked her hair and cheek appreciatively, "Not bad"

Reluctantly, Hermione shed her robes. She felt very vulnerable in her bra and knickers, but she wanted Fleur's help, after all.

"Tres bien" Fleur crossed her arms and looked her up and down, "Skinny legs, but not bad. Small hips. Round belly. Petit breasts. Cute. Un bonbon for your herbologist, non? Does he nibble on you?"

At this she grinned and Hermione blushed.

"What parts does he like?" Fleur circled her.

"Um, none over the others. He kisses me" at this she sighed at the pleasure of the memory, "all over. He likes my legs and my breasts and my face and my back and my arse and my hair and everything. He's so gentle."

"Ah, so perhaps you should be less gentle on him?"

"I'm not sure he'd like that"

"Who is the dominant in the bed?"

"Um, me, but-"

"Does he enjoy it?"

"Yes, but-"

"Then be as dominant as you like. I 'ave just the thing!"

At this, Fleur went over to a wooden chest that was sitting against the wall and opened it with a flick of her wand.

Hermione peered, seeing a pile of clothes in the chest that Fleur quickly searched through. None of the outfits looked very practical.

"Do you like any of them? Which one?"

Hermione wished she had more selection, but she saw a black dress that looked decently substantial. She took it out. The top was black leather with a tan sash and a white dress. To her distress, the top had no back or shoulders, revealing the skin up to the sides of her breasts. The only thing holding it up where two broad leather straps crossed over each other that would rest on her neck. Part of her wanted to throw it down. Another whispered in her ear to try it on.

"Oh, that is a pretty one. Allow me to show you how it fits" Fleur seemed to approve of the second emotion and nodded thoughtfully at the choice

Before Hermione could protest, Fleur was shedding her robes. Pale, creamy skin shone in the light. Hermione had always felt embarrassed when other girls took their clothes off, especially since she felt so self-conscious about her body. Fleur was perfect and round and tall and curved in the places men adored. She averted her eyes, just in time as pair of pale blue knickers and a matching bra hit the floor.

She never understood why Neville worshiped her body in bed. She was proud of her mind and her independence, and Neville adored those just as much, but she never thought her body was much to look at. Compared to Parvati and Lavender, let alone Fleur, she was downright plain. She knew why Harry was after Ginny and Cho, who were gorgeous She'd have to look to Pansy and Millicent Bullstrode to feel better about herself. Even Katie and Hannah were a cut above her, in her opinion.

"Why so ashamed, Hermione? We are just two beautiful girls playing dressup"

Hermione looked back to see Fleur modeling the outfit. The leather lovingly clung to every curve, revealing creamy pale skin. The skirt only revealed the knees down, but was snug on her hips. It flattered her body quite well, and it could easily do the same for her. Still, she didn't quite like it. She'd had to try it out herself. Even then, she was sure she could never manage to make it work. She just wasn't good enough for it

"Do you think your husband will like it?" Fleur looked smugger than ever

"Oh yes. May I try it on? I want to know how it feels like"

"Of course."

Before Hermione would look away, Fleur had already undone the dress and let it fall to the ground.

The younger witch turned and stared at the wall, feelings of excitement giving way to inferiority. She was no Veela, she was no stunning beauty that could make Neville swoon. She refused to look Fleur in the eye.

"Do you think you are ugly, Hermione?" the Frenchwoman asked.

"Yes" she responded quietly

"Who has told you so?"

"Pansy Parkinson-"

"Was she that one Slytherin with the pig nose?"

"And Draco Malfoy-"

"A treacherous little coward"

"And professor Snape"

"The only tips he could give would be how to look like a wet and angry horse"

Hermione laughed in spite of herself.

"Does Neville think you are ugly?" Fleur asked pointedly

"No. Not at all" It hit her like a stunning spell. That's what mattered.

Fleur caught her expression and placed her hands on her hips.

"So you have nothing to be afraid of. You'll have to drop your underthings to put these on"

There was a brief pause of hesitation, but what the other witch told her emboldened the bookworm, and she stripped without self-consciousness. She turned to receive the clothing, trying her best to ignore the nude woman in front of her.

Fleur looked triumphant as Hermione began to dress. The leather felt surprisingly comfortable. She couldn't imagine wearing it all day, imagining the chafing, but it felt soft against her skin and fit her well. Clingy but not too tight. It was profoundly silly, Hermione thought, but it would get the job done.

"It's pretty, but it's not dominant enough. You need something which will make him beg for his punishment"

Hermione blushed.

"Perhaps some other time. It looks like leather looks as good on you as it does on me and Bill"

Back to the crate. Hermione found a dress that was much more demure, blue and silky baring only a "v" of skin. Fleur dismissed it with a shake of her blond head.

Instead, she pointed to a pile of pink cloth. This, unlike the first, looked very promising to Hermione.

Fleur was still nude, much to the younger witch's disappointment, but the more she thought about it the more comfortable it was. Fleur was, after all, older than her, and yet her body and face had a slight resemblance. After all, Hermione's mother's family was from Lyon. She could be Fleur. She could outdo her if she wanted to. Hermione relished a challenge. Sometimes it led her shame like the disastrous relationship with Ron, but sometimes it led her to unexpected thrills such as playing dress-up with a married witch who had turned the eyes of every male in the school who was giving the humble bookworm a chance.

Two witches playing dress up. Hermione had never played dress-up with other girls, and even when she did by herself, she would always get bored and go read a book. But here, now, with Fleur, she was realizing a side of herself that was feminine but wasn't weak in the slightest.

"Well?"

Hermione looked up to view Fleur's dress with optimism, but the smile faded quickly. The dress was transparent. Well, mostly transparent. It was somewhat opaque, but not enough for Hermione's liking. Much of Fleur's pale flesh shone through the flimsy gossamer cloth, and Hermione had to admit it looked quite beautiful. Still, she couldn't picture herself in the outfit. Not really.

As if on cue, Fleur pulled off the dress and handed it to Hermione.

"Try it on" she requested

Hermione sighed, accepting it and changing into it. After the first time undressing, she had become more comfortable showing herself in front of Fleur. It became a point of pride, a point to prove herself in front of Fleur. A way to settle the score once and for all.

Hermione posed in the light, cool dress, twirling and pirouetting in front of her companion. She felt proud and beautiful and perfect. If she had her way, she would take this one.

Fleur laughed, "It is beautiful, Hermione. I will remember this one. But not for what you have in mind, I think"

"Why not?"

"It shows you as vulnerable. You need something to remind Neville who you are and who is in charge. You can be vulnerable when you take it off"

The younger girl sighed again.

Fleur walked over to the chest again. Fortunately for Hermione, she shook her head at what looked like a schoolgirl outfit and a short, low-cut red sequin dress. However, a look of triumph from Fleur as she pulled out a new costume.

"Ah, here it is" And with a flourish she laid seven pieces of leather on the bed. A skirt, a bustier, gloves, boots, and a riding crop.

"You want me to wear that?" Hermione wrinkled her nose.

"It would suit you. Let me put it on"

The Gryffindor crossed her arms and stared at the ground.

Hermione looked up to see Fleur in the proposed outfit. She had to admit, it looked good. The corset hugged her figure in a flattering way, and pushed up her breasts, already half-exposed, to prominent peaks. It cut off to reveal a small line of her abdomen before the leather skirt covered the upper part of her thighs. The gloves went over the elbow before stopping a small way up the forearms, while the boots went up to knees. Seeing it on her, Hermione realized the effect. The black leather contrasted with her pale skin and made it glow softly in comparison.

"It adjusts to the wearer, and if the spell misfires you can fix it yourself. You are about my same size, I think. What do you think?" Fleur spun around slowly to model the clothes.

"It's nice" Hermione offered lamely, "but what about the crop?"

"I only use it if he wants it rough. Just having it makes you powerful, and you can slap him with it or touch him. Does it feel all right? Imagine Neville doing this to you"

Hermione closed her eyes to remember her husband. Neville thought himself half-short, half-pale, and half-fat, but to Hermione he was more than half-tall, half-tan, and half-muscle. He had a beautiful smile that she loved to coax out of him, dark blue eyes that seemed to glow from within, and hair that shifted from black to blond depending on the light.

She was snapped out of her imagination when she felt the riding crop stroke her cheek tenderly. Her eyes snapped open. A chilling wave of uncertainty traveled down her body.

"Close your eyes, Hermione. Imagine your husband" Fleur chided her.

Hermione closed her eyes again, and the crop moved to her neck. It felt odd, but it wasn't hurting her. When she imagined Neville touching her with it, it became pleasurable. It stroked her neck lovingly, then down her collar and circled each breast. She gasped at the sensation, surprised by the feeling. It traveled down her abdomen, and stroked up and down before skimming her white cotton knickers.

Hermione bit her lip, and squeezed her eyes shut as Fleur raked the crop up and down the inside of her legs before tickling her toes. God, it felt so good. All the places that Neville caressed with his hands and mouth were explored by that piece of leather. When Fleur finally backed off, Hermione opened her eyes to the triumphant witch

"I'll try it on" she sighed

Hermione had to admit, leather did suit her purposes. It felt good, and while she knew it would become hot and stiff, she assumed the play wouldn't last long. Neville was quite good at foreplay, but she didn't want to overdo it.

As soon as she was dressed, she looked down. A great deal of flesh was exposed, cleavage and legs prominent in comparison with the leather. Neville would faint if he saw her right now.

"It suits you. Very nice. Tres seductive" Fleur looked her over, calm and encouraging despite being completely starkers, "Should I fix your hair?"

"You should, but he seems to like it"

"Then keep it. I would love to make it pretty, though"

"I would just like to be pretty. Well, thanks for the outfit." She was so confident; she changed into her robes in front of Fleur as if she did so every day.

"The boy won't know what hit him, will he?" Fleur said. They shared a conspiratorial grin.

Hermione finished getting dressed, and put the leather kit into her purse. Fleur was still nude.

"Thank you for everything Fleur. Aren't you going to get dressed?"

"No, my Billy is going to get the shock of his life when he comes home" She giggled, "Good luck, 'ermione! Tell me all about it!"

Hermione waved back as she left the cottage. She felt better now. She had a plan, even one based entirely on a whim. She had the tools for the job. Finally, she had her lovable husband who had also taken the day off to go meet with professor Goldstien. All she had to do was scout out his time of arrival, change into her gear, and charm him to the bed. She had a solid reason to do so-she caught him reading the copy of the Kama Sutra Parvati gave them when she got back from tea with Ginny. She also had exactly what kinds of mischief she would perform on him the moment he was in her clutches. She could hardly wait.


	2. Surprisingly Good

Hermione Granger still wasn't quite sure what she was doing in a corset, boots and miniskirt (made of black leather of all things). She wasn't one to do things on anything as silly as a whim. Whims were made by people without any idea of what they were doing. She, however, always knew what she was doing. Except now.

True, she had body-bound Neville in the first year at Hogwarts, but stripping him naked and magically fastening his hands and feet to a bed was not something she ever recalled doing. Let alone the riding crop. Especially the riding crop.

Fleur had talked her into this. Talked her into being a sex object for her husband. Talked her into this ridiculous outfit. Talked her into bringing power politics and leather and bondage into her lovemaking. On one hand, it made her feel terrified, confused, and perverse. On the other, it felt exhilarating as the soft leather snugly clung to her sensitized skin. She could feel sweat on her brow and her nipples growing hard in anticipation and excitement.

She twisted the implement in her hand as she circled around the bed where the other former Gryffindor student was waiting. She could see his chest rise and fall rapidly in his own, more familiar anxiety. Hermione couldn't blame him. She was used to being in charge after all, in the office, at the table, or in bed. You don't become part of the Wizangamot being a weak-willed submissive. However, this was an extreme neither had ever seen before, and he looked as confused and aroused as she was.

There was something in his eyes she couldn't quite guess. There was his usual fear and anxiety, but there was also…anticipation. That took her off guard and stopped her nervous pacing. After all these years, she thought her dominating side was something that hurt him, scared him, and made him weak. And now he seemed to be enjoying it. Ron fought back, Harry ignored her, and Neville patiently endured her. That's the way it worked. He liked it. He liked being submitted. She hadn't believed Fleur when she hinted at it, but now her words became true and clear.

Hermione had a few weak spots, like chocolate ices, report cards, and Neville's mouth; but two of them, she now realized, was being in control, and using that control to make someone feel better. It had always been instinctual, part of what school was all about for her. But this…this….it apparated into her worldview and made her feel a rush like a butterbeer after a long walk in the snow.

She felt herself smiling.

"So, Mr Longbottom", her worried slinking turned into a predatory strut and her murmurs turned into a purr, "remind me again, where were you at the time when I was having congenial visit to Harry and Ginny's for tea?"

"R-r-reading" he stared at her, still in awe. The outfit and the situation were enough, but her attitude overwhelmed him.

"Reading what?" she purred. For once, that horrible polyjuice disaster second year had come in handy, as she remembered exactly what vocal chords and breath to use.

"I don't remember". His breaths were coming in gasps now.

"Was it one of your herbology books?" She stopped at the foot of the bed and stared down at him, totally in power

"No. It was one of your books" Neville was capable of withstanding torture. Snape's special slicing curse had turned his chest and abdomen into a network of scars that had taken over three years to fade away. But when it came to the people he cared for, he was an open book.

"Which book?" She steepled her fingers, only to remember that she was wearing matching gloves to the rest of her….outfit.

"The one with…the.." He tried to gesture, but only his fingers could move, "The one that Parvati gave you on our wedding day"

"Ah, the Vatsyayana classic. What, did Ron refuse to give you his Playwizard?" she taunted with a grin.

"N-No. I was curious…and I-I thought we might someday, you know, um…" His body was covered in sweat. He would always come home sweaty after a day in the garden or at the greenhouse. It was less disgusting than she thought it would be.

"You may make suggestions for our love life, but I don't take kindly to subterfuge. Usually you ask for my books, even though you don't need to" She menacingly began to slap the riding crop against her gloved palm.

"What are going to do?" He knew perfectly well not to expect an answer

"I'm sure you know" Usually when Hermione smiled, it was one of joy or appreciation or triumph. This was a smile she usually reserved for a particularly nasty article or right before she ordered Umbridge's memory erased. And then she came on with the crop.

"Tell me, Mr. Longbottom, how does that feel?" She asked him, slowly dragging the crop on soles of his feet. His only response was a quiet moan.

"Interesting. How about this?" The crop slid up the inside of his leg, stroking the thigh lovingly like it was Hermione's hand.

"Oh, Hermione…."

"Give me a straight answer!" She snarled, cracking the crop on his bare arse.

Neville howled, but managed to regain his coherence for only a second.

"It feels wonderful"

"Where?" She cracked it again on his other arse cheek

"Everywhere" He gasped

"Oh" Well, there goes that portion. Very well, she could always use the crop later. She was just having fun with it.

"Is it as good as my tongue?" She leaned on the bed, giving him a perfect view down her bodice.

"It's wonderful" He whispered.

"I'll have to do a comparison, then" She growled, and with that began to crawl up the bed. She could taste the sweat on his left ankle, the smoothness of his skin, the muscle of his thigh.

"That's bloody brilliant, Hermione" he moaned

She slapped his arse, carefully to hit a different spot than the crop.

"Is it better or worse?" This time, she didn't snarl, but said it firmly and deliberately.

"Not sure. Maybe you could do it again…"

"I have a better idea"

She had seen those awful pornographic films that consisted soley of the poor woman slurping on some ugly man's penis. She had been in classes with Hagrid or Snape that were less horrid.

What Hermione did was slower, precise, and careful. She licked his shaft slowly, once on each side. The taste was the same for the rest of Neville for Hermione, but it was the feel, and moreoever Neville's loud whimpers as she tasted him that made her feel truly empowered.

She swirled the tongue around and then moved to plant a kiss on his belly

"Can a whip do that?"

"No. This…muchbetter…loveyou…" his words came in short bursts as he panted heavily to keep himself in control.

"Don't worry" Her tone turned soothing and caring suddenly, "You'll orgasm when I say you will. Nothing else"

With that, she licked up his stomach and into his navel. Every part of him tasted the same, but they all tasted very good. She felt him quiver against her tongue, and even when she stopped to crawl up the bed, her mere breath was sending shivers up his spine.

She loved when he did that.

Up to the chest, where she couldn't resist licking each nipple once before going between them. Neville arched up against her, moaning. She had to admit that the moaning was starting to drive her crazy, and she nibbled his neck to inspire more.

"Neville?" she whispered into his ear before tugging it between her teeth

"Oh, Hermione" he moaned

"I love you".

It was all she could say. "Shut up" "You taste wonderful" "Just kiss me" all flashed through her mind, but it was how much she loved him that really entered her mind. She remembered when she first realized she loved him long ago at Hogwarts, and how it took many weeks before she could come to terms with it. She had always known he loved her from the fourth year on, but she still couldn't figure her own feelings. After all, she thought Ron loved her. The realization that she loved him in return threw her paradigm on its head, and yet it brought her years of joy and relief.

All thoughts were banished through her mind as she kissed him. Whenever she kissed him, it was like her mind evaporated. Usually, it would be humiliating, disempowering, and disorienting. But when Neville kissed her, it felt like it made perfect sense.

Her sight, touch, balance, thought, and sense of time and space all dissipated when they kissed, banishing everything but love. For all she knew, they were in the middle of the ocean of a distant planet, thousands of years from now. And she loved the sensation.

Finally, she pulled back.

"Neville, I think it's my turn now" She whispered, undoing the binding spell on his hands. Instantly, he embraced her

"Why?" he murmured into her ear.

"Thought you might like it" Hermione let out a little smile before she kissed him again.

"And you were saying something about it being your turn?" he tried to sound seductive. To any other girl, it would have come off as hilarious. To Hermione, it foreboded something wonderful.

She could only close her eyes as he kissed her lips, moved down to her neck, then move back up to lick an ear. Neville was trying to repay for all the pleasure she had given him, and it was working. Still, she couldn't help but stay in control as long as possible.

"Take off my clothes" she said quietly.

"Give me a minute" he muttered, kissing her cleavage.

"Please! Do it now!" Hermione moaned.

Neville didn't have his wand with him, but he managed to figure out how to undo the lacing of the corset. He was slow about it, stroking the exposed skin, and continuing to kiss the exposed tops of her breasts.

He peeled off the corset slowly, his warm breath paradoxically sending chills down Hermione's spine. She couldn't stand it any longer.

"Suck me"

Neville obediently complied, lips pulling on her hard nipples, causing a loud moan at each suck. If Hermione had been thinking of anything other than sheer ecstasy, she would have wondered why he enjoyed sucking on her flesh. Was it for her reaction? Was it the taste? Or was it simply because it drove her wild.

"Don't stop" She managed to speak out her one thought.

Neville had no intention of stopping, latched on, one hand on her back, another cupping the other breast, and his tongue teasing the captured aureole.

Hermione was too busy aching with pleasure to notice his hand wandering down her back, but couldn't help but react when his hand slipped under her skirt.

The combination nearly drove her to the breaking point, but Neville stopped and pulled back before she could climax.

"Neville, get back there!" she moaned

"But, I don't want you to go before-"

"Get back now!" Her voice turned hard

Obediently, Neville's mouth and hands returned with a vengeance. Now as he sucked on the previously unattended breast, he began to gently squeeze the other. His free hand returned back to teasing her, but now alternated between rubbing her clitoris and stroking inside her.

True to Neville's prediction, this total assault on all her sweet spots drove her over the edge. The orgasm exploded through her, and she collapsed on top of him, having just enough thought to roll over to lie beside him.

"You know I love it when you do that" she panted as she came down from her peak.

"And I love doing it to you." He turned to smile at her, then he seemed to remember something.

"Um, Hermione, I'm still stuck to the bed"

"And what gives you the faintest idea that I would do anything to change that?" She grinned back at him, "I can think of a million things we can do"

Neville opened his mouth to ask for an example when Hermione straddled his face. Oh. That. Obedient to the end, he began to run his tongue on her lower lips in the way he had always done so before. When she had lost her virginity to him, she had taught him exactly where and how she loved to be touched. By now, his lips and tongue were practiced in how to drive her to insane bliss.

Along the labia, up to the clitoris, then straight down to delve into her heat. Exquisite. Hermione knew exactly what he would do on cue. Yes, she could feel his tongue scrape against her sensitive thighs. Next he would circle around her-there it is. And then he would start sucking on her. Mmmm, she could feel the soft pressure already. He would lick her while drinking up her juices. Usually this would be enough for her to finally orgasm. In less than a minute, she'd be screaming out an orgasm.

Before she was carried off by his wonderful tongue and lips, Hermione realized that she was still wearing her skirt and boots. To her surprise, she didn't really care. This was fun, and she would have to find an excuse to do it again.

"Let's do this more often" she sighed in contentment as she felt the waves of pleasure flow through her as she predicted. He tried to mumble a reply, but all it did was send another blast of sensual joy into his lover. She took it as a yes.


	3. Showing off

A single beam of light from the edge of the curtain shone into Hermione Granger's closed eyes. She blinked away the sleep and rubbed her eyes, tired from the last night. She had the most erotic dream. She was spanking her husband with a discarded leather corset and riding him hard. He was bound to the bed, but his arms were free and they set her flesh on fire with his caress. It felt so good….

Then she realized she was entirely nude, and that it wasn't a dream. She rolled over. There he was, his legs still bound to the bed. Her sweet Neville was snoring, sound asleep. She smiled, kissed him on the forehead, and grabbed for her wand. She had unbound her future husband from various spells over the years, but never in this kind of situation. She kissed him again, this time on the neck

"Morning, Neville. You have to make breakfast and go to work"

"Saturday. Not hungry. Gotta sleep"

"Fine, but you're getting up soon"

There was a few minutes of silence.

"Love?" the wizard broke the silence

"Hm?"

"Why did you do that, last night?"

"I felt like it"

"Where did you get the, um, the-"

"Fleur gave it to me"

"Told you you'd get along eventually. Was it her idea?"

"Just the outfit. I have to thank her for it"

"What about work?"

"It's Saturday"

"Oh"

Finally, they had the strength to get up and have breakfast. Neville always did the cooking. While Hermione was talented at potions as she was almost everything else, she could not cook at all. She always lost her patience and ruined it. Neville, on the other hand, did the cooking for his gran when he lived with her, and Hermione had to admit he was quite good. His crumpets rivaled Mrs. Weasley's.

As she finished cleaning and putting away the dishes, an idea entered the young woman's head. She should remember to give Fleur's loaned costume back. Today would be the best opportunity. She didn't want to hold on to it, since she was sure she could find something herself, and she felt obliged to thank her unexpected friend. She explained this to Neville, and he seemed willing to go.

The Shell Cottage, unfortunately, was empty. When Hermione and Neville got there, a sheet of paper decorated with elegant handwriting was pinned on the door. It read:

_Mr. And Mrs. Bill and Fleur Weasley are not at home at the moment. Please write your name(s) if you want to contact them at this time._

Neville and Hermione looked at each other, confused, but signed on the line. The signature faded and another line appeared on the paper.

_Thank you. Both can be found at Polgaver Beach, St. Austell, Cornwall. They are sitting behind a magic sand screen behind the blue-haired muggle with the pink sun umbrella. _

"Neville, do you have a bathing suit?"

"Yes. I still go to Blackpool every once in a while with Dean and Seamus. How about you?"

"I have one. We'll have to go home and change"

The implication sank in.

"I will if you will" He said with a smile.

"Deal" She returned his smile.

The beach, while far from bare, was not as crowded as Hermione anticipated and Neville feared. It looked like all muggles, but it was impossible to tell. That's one thing Hermione had always remembered. No matter what a person wears or what their abilities are, they're still people. People like Voldemort and the Malfoys never understood that, and suffered for it.

She usually didn't go to the beach. She was always too busy, and it felt frankly boring. She wasn't comfortable exposing herself and killing time lounging around. Still, she had to admit the times she did go with her parents were a lot of fun, and with Neville holding her hand, the sun seems to be even more pleasant.

Hermione squeezed Neville's hand, being proud of her husband and her own cunning. He smiled at her. She always knew what she was doing, and that gave his life certainty and stability. She was there for him the moment they first met, and he would do anything to do his part for her

"Where did they say they were?" he peered across the beach.

"Blue haired muggle with a pink sun umbrella"

"That's not much in the way of-"

"Oh, there she is. This way"

Somehow, against the odds, Hermione spotted their quarry. Sure enough, there was a young muggle woman listening to her headset. Her hair seemed to have been a victim of numerous hair coloring experiments, the latest being blue, with red, white, and black hairs peering underneath the bizarre coat. When Tonks changed her hair color, she was always doing it just for fun, and perhaps this woman had the same idea. There was a pang of sorrow as Hermione remembered poor Tonks and the child she left behind.

Neville was more concerned with an immediate problem.

"Um, I don't see them" He whispered into her ear.

"The note mentioned a magic sand screen. Try to walk along the beach past the sign"

He shrugged. Wouldn't be the first time this kind of thing happened.

As they stepped forward, Neville noticed a magical hum in his inner ear. He kept on moving. Suddenly, a gust of wind blew a giant plume of sand right at him and Hermione. He raised his arms to protect his face and turned away from the wind instinctively.

"Go on. Keep walking" Hermione struggled to speak through the sandstorm

Neville trusted her with his life, and he kept moving forward. The wind got stronger and stronger, but he kept on going. Suddenly he felt as if he was caught up in the wind itself and his ears popped. He gasped out Hermione's name as everything went black.

Neville woke up to an incredible feeling. Someone's lips and tongue were playing on his manhood, teasing him incessantly. He gasped, moaned, and tried to open his eyes, but his eyes hurt from a combination of the lingering magic and the bright sun. Might as well make the most of it. It was probably Hermione, anyway. She had a talented tongue and incorrigible mouth, and while she hardly ever gave him a blowjob, the few times she had a whim to, she was surprisingly adept. At least, it was for Neville. After a few moments of this wonderful torture, the unknown person moved up his naked body, kissing his sensitive skin.

He had no idea how he lost his swim trunks. He hoped he could find them again. His thought processes only returned for a moment. The next moment, he found warm, soft, wonderful lips devouring his mouth and an eager tongue invading. Neville complied briefly, kissing his assailant back. All he could tell is that she was a woman, but not Hermione.

When she finally gave him breathing space, he tried to push her off. Her legs were firmly hooked around him, and all he managed to do was give her soft breasts an accidentally caress. The moan that ensued was certainly not Hermione's, but he couldn't place exactly who. It was someone very familiar, but not anyone he had seen in a long time. Whoever it was, it was a veteran of lovemaking, far more skilled than he ever could be, and she was not taking no for an answer.

He opened his mouth to call for help, but all that got him was the mysterious girl shoving his head onto her right breast. He struggled, mouthing around the flesh, but all he got as a reward was a stream of French explanations. Fleur? He grabbed her legs to throw her off, and bit her breast to make her back off, but both only encouraged her to rub her hips against his heat. Hermione came to his rescue.

"Fleur, let him go. I'm done with Bill"

Fleur sighed in satisfaction as she finally got off the struggling herbologist. He finally situated himself; he was on the beach, laying face-up on a blanket. There was Fleur, topless, panting, and looking very pleased with herself. He tore his eyes away in shame to his wife, who had a similar satisfied expression as she sat on Bill Weasley's hips.

"Your husband is excellent, Hermione" Fleur grinned at the younger witch. Hermione blushed as she stood up.

"So's yours" Fortunately for Neville, Hermione was still wearing her bikini

"Hermione, I'm sorry-"

"It was my idea" the ex-Beuxbatons student interrupted, "I wanted to find out if what Hermione said was true about you"

Neville turned bright red.

"Neville, I hope you're all right that I was on top of Bill when Fleur was-"

"Well, as long as this is the only time"

"This had better be" Hermione gave Fleur a dirty look.

"I should get dressed" the Frenchwoman shrugged innocently.

Bill had fallen asleep.

Neville reached for his trunks, but couldn't find them.

"Lost something?"

There was his wonderful wife, triumphantly holding his swimming trunks and waving them tauntingly.

"Let me hold them" Fleur interrupted. Sure enough, she was wearing the leather outfit that she had given Hermione instead of anything sensible. "You won't be needing any clothes for your last demonstration"

Hermione tossed the trunks to Fleur, confused on what she meant.

"I want to see you two make love, nothing more" she explained

Neville just looked at his wife. The decision was entirely hers, despite his misgivings on the situation. He had made sure their sex was always in private, but here he was being told to perform. Hermione would never stand for it.

"Fine" Neville jumped a foot in the air while sitting up at Hermione's words

Hermione had something to prove. She was going to impress Fleur at her own game. Neville recognized the look in his wife's eye.

Before he could protest, Hermione undid her bikini top and let it fall to the sand. He'd seen her topless before. He'd worshiped her body many nights. But he felt as if he was seeing her for the first time. Every curve, every inch of skin, every part of flesh shone in the sun. Hermione thought herself plain. Neville thought her perfection. Enrapt, he stood up and walked to her. He didn't notice Fleur's stare at his aroused member, nor did he care he was on a public beach. All he noticed was his wife's expression turning from uncertainty to determination.

He embraced her tenderly. Whatever ambitions he had were nothing compared to the moment of being with her. All he could feel, and all he wanted to feel, was her skin against his, her back against his palms, her palms against his back, his arms around her, her arms around him, her hair against his face, and her breath against his neck.

"Are you sure you want to do this in front of Bill and Fleur?" Neville whispered

"I want to prove you're wonderful"

"Can't they just take your word for it, like I do?"

"No. Not this time" And she kissed him deeply.

Neville rubbed her bare back appreciatively, debating with himself but eventually deciding on agreeing with his wife. He returned her kiss, delving deeply into her mouth. She tasted so wonderful; he could pass out from lack of air in a kiss with her. It seemed to last like hours.

Fleur watched carefully. The kiss itself was incredibly arousing, as if they had planned all their life for it. She peered closer, pulse beginning to quicken as she saw the two young wizards devouring each other. She noticed her fingers rubbing her thigh rather anxiously, but tried to ignore it.

Neville reluctantly broke off the kiss, but moved on to kiss her neck. She moaned. God, he loved that moan. Hermione obviously wanted to invoke a moan herself, and nibbled an ear. Worked like a charm. It came without a conscious thought, but Neville made the desired sound.

They broke off again. Hermione casually ran her fingers through the light dusting of hair on his broad chest. She pinched the nipples playfully, but before she could take control, Neville's hands were on her breasts. He watched her face contort in pleasure and arch her back. Her skin was so sensitive, and he remembered the exact same reaction when he massaged her their first time together. He lightly squeezed, moving in for another kiss.

She took in his kiss hungrily, fingers threading through his hair. Instinctively, he squeezed harder to inspire a gasp of joy. Suddenly, she shoved his head into her cleavage and held him there tightly. He responded by kissing and licking every part of her he could reach, but her grip on him pressed him hard into her chest and preventing him from moving. All he could do is rub his face against her sensitive skin, hands wandering down her sides, briefly stroking her abdomen before cupping her bum.

"So good…." She gasped out, loosening her grip. This was the opportunity Neville needed. First one breast, and then the other were licked enthusiastically. Hermione shoved his head onto a breast, but unlike his rude awakening with Fleur, Neville was ready this time. He noticed how her flesh had swelled slightly since he had first touched it, but nonetheless tried to take as much as possible into his mouth and sucking hard.

Fleur couldn't help but caress her own breasts in reaction. She appreciated breast play, and the way Neville had bit her and accidentally sucked her was excellent. Bill was no amateur at it, and Fleur couldn't help but be reminded of her now-sleeping husband's technique. Did she look like that when she had her breasts teased? Her fingers played with her nipples in time with Longbottom's suckling.

"So good…" Hermione repeated in a moan as she threw her head back at her husband's suckling. Her grip tightened on Neville's head, and he continued his ministrations. He moved to the other breast, swirling his tongue slowly around the aureole. She whimpered and forced his head against her chest once more. Hermione tasted as wonderful as always, and her vocalizations were music to his ears. He knew exactly how she liked to be touched, and demonstrated it all on his beautiful wife.

A deep suck combined with tongue work brought her to a scream. Encouraged, the herbologist plunged his hands into the bikini bottom and yanked the offending clothing to her knees. She would have fallen on the sand had not Fleur quickly summoned the towel to lie precisely underneath the collapsing witch. While her fingers clawed into her husband's scalp, her legs went weak. Neville held on, falling to his knees as he moved to her belly. He only lasted a few seconds there, moving back to taste her lips again.

"On your back. I want you inside me" She whispered breathlessly as she kicked off her bikini bottom.

Obediently, Neville rolled over so that he was face-up on the towel and Hermione was perched on his hips and stroking his thighs.

"Are you ready?" he asked her, fingers probing for her thighs and clitoris before wandering up to caress the sensitive undersides of her chest.

"Oh, yes…"

And with that, she sank down onto him.

It felt like the first time, when he lost his virginity to his first and only love. It felt like someone had invented the opposite of a Cruciatus curse. It felt as if she was surrounding him with her love and concentrating her passion.

Hermione took control, leaning forward to kiss and caress his face. He ran his fingers through the bushy curls and down her soft back as she kissed the life out of him, then proceeded to nip his nipples and squeeze his chest. And then she began to grind against him. Short, slow thrusts, slowly building in intensity. They had done this countless times, and their experience showed.

Fleur could see the experience herself, imagining the sensation she had felt herself quite often. The more practice a couple had, the better they knew exactly how they liked to be touched and what would feel perfect for each other. As she saw Longbottom go deeper and Granger moan and arch herself backwards, the hand that wasn't groping a breast was delving into her bikini bottom to finger herself.

Neville, to Hermione's surprise, had learned quickly when they had first had sex. He had paid quiet attention to all of Hermione's commands-don't pull on the hair, don't bite, be slow and gentle, don't forget to kiss, the back is as good as the arse, the breasts are not just for decorations, etc. He had paid silent attention, then formed as well as he could.

And yet, every time felt like the first time. Sure enough, he had worked out the rhythm that drove them both wild. Sure enough, her hands were tight around his shoulders as she supported herself. Sure enough, his hands wandered from her beautiful face to her round breasts to her slightly curved hips to finally her most sensitive organs.

"Oh, oh, oh, do it now!" Hermione managed to moan.

That was the signal. Immediately, Neville flipped Hermione back to the towel, squeezed her breasts harder than he had done before, and began thrusting harder and faster. He wanted to explode in her. He wanted to pour his life into her. He wanted her to be proud of him, to be satisfied and triumphant over her self-doubt.

Unfortunately, he lost control of himself in the process. To his horror, he felt himself climax. In one last thrust he spent himself and rolled over again to lie on the towel, tears streaming down his face. It hadn't happened for a while, but it always reminded him of Hermione's standards, and how he could never live up to them

Hermione tried comforting him by kissing her way up his back, but he just lay there, shamed. Neville's anticlimax stopped Fleur in mid-stroke of her fingers, and she couldn't help but feel embarrassed herself. She didn't come her for an orgasm…at least not just an orgasm…but to really try to understand other people.

"I'm sorry…I couldn't….I'm sorry….I feel like a little boy again…." Neville was gasping, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"I remember. I remember when you became confused, or lost, or needed help with homework. But you always found a way to persevere. You always persevered, and you kept what made you a wonderful person. And that's why I love you. Because you tell me I can do the same " She lay down next to him, giving the towel a tug to expand it and captured his dark blue eyes with her brown-eyed gaze.

"What can I do?" his voice came out in a whisper

"Neville, I want you to give me oral sex. Now"

There was a brief pause.

Neville looked at Fleur, who was standing there with her arms crossed across her chest, waiting, then at Hermione, giving him her wonderful smile.

"I can do that" he smiled in return, kissing her sweet lips goodbye as he scooted to her hips.

From her vantage point, Fleur watched carefully. It seemed to sum up how they both had changed over the years. Neville was cautious as ever, but he was precise and determined and masterful at making Hermione writhe and call out his name. Hermione herself had turned from the reserved, dominating drama queen to someone who was letting herself be fellated in a public beach. Still, Neville's devotion to her and Hermione's pride in him were keeping them together, and she saw that pride in their action.

At this, Fleur quietly returned her fingers to their former work, nipple and clitoris still begging for more. She had to come with Hermione, she had to see this challenge through. She had found a kinship with the younger girl before, and she felt obliged to keep going.

She couldn't see the action itself, but Hermione's high-pitched moans and energetic gyrations gave away the effect. Her orgasm kept roaring forward, but Neville, to both women's surprise, moved his head to kiss her stomach. While one hand continued to stimulate her core, the other dragged him to the level of her chest.

Hermione was about to snap out at her husband, only to orgasm violently as he suckled her right nipple while squeezing the other. As she came, he abandoned the sweet nipple for the sweeter taste of her lips, swallowing her scream. Even as she came down from her intense wave of pleasure, Neville's lips never left hers. His right hand rested comfortably on her abdomen, feeling her deep breaths as she regained herself.

Fleur's hands followed the motions of the wizard's, and her pleasure followed that of the witch. She would make sure that Bill took her that night just to release what she had seen that day. As Hermione screamed into Neville's mouth, entire body vibrating, Fleur finally worked herself into a release. As she calmed with the other two, her eyes never left the couple.

There they lay for minutes on end, the wizard sleeping soundly with his arms around his wife and the witch propping up her head with her hands and staring into the blue sky.

"That was impressive" Fleur finally commented, having recovered before the couple. She tried to hide what she had been doing from Hermione, but something told her that Hermione somehow knew and took pride in what she and her husband had just accomplished.

"I love him. I'm proud that I love him" Hermione murmured half-to-Fleur, half-to-noone.

"My grandmere once told me "Great sex does not make love. Love makes great sex. I saw both. You are a good woman, Hermione, and you have a good husband"

"And he loves me. He loves me sincerely. I didn't know I could ever find anyone like that" The younger witch was very quiet.

"I know" The response was equally quiet.

Hermione turned, kissed her snoring husband, and cuddled up into Neville's sleeping form. Content.


	4. Bait and Switch

Professor Longbottom. Neville smiled to himself as he walked from the Ministry Department of Education. He liked the sound of that. It made him sound important, intelligent, and cultured. Neville had long resisted the idea, but Hermione had taught him to trust in his own abilities. As students, she taught him magic and logic, and how to fight for what he believed in. In their first year of marriage, things hadn't changed. One week it was his ability in home repair magic, another week it was cleaning the house, and another week it was cooking. And only two weeks ago she taught him confidence in bed.

He supposed only Hermione could inspire him to have sex in broad daylight next to Bill and Fleur. He still couldn't possibly explain what he did. Still, it was the day after she bound him to the bed, dressed herself in a leather corset, and lashed him rigorously with a riding crop. It had been quite an interesting weekend. Neville guessed that as a wizard he should always expect the unexpected, and throughout his many years in Hogwarts he had certainly been flummoxed by the complex events that had happened. Nothing in Hogwarts, however, prepared him for that one weekend.

He knew some pushy llegimens could catch him thinking about sex on the way to the lift, but he couldn't help it. He had to admit his first time was not with Hermione, who had dating Ron at the time. No, it was Parvati one night in London. A young lonely veteran seeking comfort with another. She had told him it was just for that one night, and that she couldn't attach herself to him. She had taught him how to have sex, but making love was a different matter.

For that, it was with his first and only true love. He remembered how surprised he was when she and Ron broke up, remembered when she looked to him for solace, remembered her expression when he told her the truth about how he had felt. Their first time together had been at her home while her parents were in hospital. She taught him what she wanted both day and night, and he promised her he would learn everything from her. Hermione was his tutor, his friend, and his lover.

To his surprise, she had told him she was learning, too. She learned to be patient, she said. She learned that she had a nurturing side besides her usual pushy self. She told him that he taught her she was a sexual being. Neville didn't understand that; he thought he was just telling the truth when he told her how he loved her and how beautiful she was. He was just being honest, and Hermione rewarded him for that. She honestly seemed surprised when he told her, on the day they were married, that this was something he could never have imagined and how blessed he was to have her.

The sudden stop of the floo trip alerted him that he was home. He stepped out of the fireplace gingerly,, only to trip at his robes were snagged on the grate. At least this time he didn't catch his head. He heard a soft laugh. Getting up from the floor, he saw Hermione reclining on the couch. And she looked fantastic.

She was wearing a slinky dark blue satin dress, and even though she was on her side propping up her head on an elbow, he could make out a lot of skin. The neckline was wide and deep, going as down as her waist and as wide to show the inside curves of her breasts. The skirt was short, revealing exactly how long her legs were. Her expression was different from mix of hunger and apprehension that night when she tied him down, it was a message of absolute seduction. It seemed as if she had given herself completely to the idea of herself as a sex kitten, which made Neville both excited and terrified.

Without a word, she got up, stretched seductively, and walked off to the bedroom, beckoning him to follow. It felt like a trap. "Some traps are worth setting off" Harry had told him. He obediently followed her, his heart drumming in his ears. What's the worst that could happen? Between dangerous plants, Snape, Malfoy's gang, bloodthirsty Death Eaters, and Voldemort himself, he had taken quite of bit of abuse to say the least. What could his wife do that was any more painful?

She was waiting in the bedroom, the corner lamp the only light source with the blinds drawn. Her hands on her hips, she seemed to be waiting for something in particular.

"Um, Hermione, why all this? I mean, I'd love to, but why now?" he asked

She shrugged

"Can't you talk?"

Her brown curls shook from side to side.

"You're trying to seduce me without speaking a word" Neville guessed.

She nodded, licking her lips and tilting her hips suggestively.

"We have ways of making you talk, Mrs. Longbottom" he put on a playful Snape impression as he walked up to her.

Hermione grinned, but refused to speak or make a sound.

"I'm an experienced interrogator, you know" he teased.

He reached around her to untie the belt holding her dress closed as he kissed her in the way he always did-slow, deep, and almost as if he was sighing.

She kissed him…differently. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but it was a different kiss that usual. Deeper, more of a pulling, entrapping; it just wasn't her usual style. She reassured him with gentle strokes of her tongue around the inside of his mouth. He willingly responded in kind, making sure that wonderful mouth of hers was never left alone.

With their mouths busy, Neville took the opportunity to untie the belt at last, and then caress her exposed belly. He felt her sigh in his mouth as his fingers painted lazy circles on the canvas of her skin. His hands moved down to massage her round, perfect bum, inspiring a gasp of pleasure. Not the usual reaction, which was a moan instead, but he knew better than to try to second-guess his wife. With his eyes closed, he didn't see Hermione reach for his wand and cast a spell.

Suddenly his robes and underwear fell to the floor, leaving him entirely naked. He was by now used to this. When he first took off his clothes in front of her, he was shy and vulnerable, never wanting to expose himself to her. She had to say to him how handsome she found him and how wonderful he was as a person for Neville to uncover himself. Many, many nights had passed since then, and this time he anticipated whenever she took his clothes off.

Kicking his clothes aside, he moved to suck her neck. It was soft and smooth as always, and he couldn't resist sucking hard enough to leave a mark and then licking the mark he left. He wanted to pamper her like he usually did, make love to her slowly and explore every part of her. He wanted her wet before he even touched her most sensitive area.

It looked like, as usual, she was more than ready to retaliate, as he felt his right ear become engulfed by moist warmth and be eagerly teased with teeth and tongue. Hermione's mouth traveled down his jaw to make her way to his neck. As usual, he was losing control again, and didn't mind it a bit.

Still, he couldn't resist returning his hands to her arse and squeezing it playfully. She gasped and withdrew her lips from his neck. Neville snaked his hands up to cup her breasts, taking advantage of this breathing space.

She gasped, then sighed, as if she hadn't been touched this way in a long time. Neville frowned. Usually Hermione expected this, often bringing his hands to her breast herself, moaning loudly when he touched her. It was only now that Hermione put her hands on his, pressing his palm and fingers on her sensitive skin and licking her lips at him. She didn't guide him-he was too experienced for that, but she reacted to the massage as if she hadn't experienced it before.

Seeing her small pink nipples harden into points at the gentle brush of his fingertips, Neville now expected her to grab his head and bring it to her chest. Instead, she reached for his member. A shudder went through the wizard. As he opened his mouth to gasp involuntarily, Hermione used this moment to grab his head and force it on one of her breasts.

Neville could never tire of tasting Hermione's breasts. He didn't know if it was the texture or the taste or the warmth or the reaction or simply the pleasure it inspired in her. He didn't care, as long as he could do it and as long as Hermione liked it as much as he did. Indeed, he could hear her gasp and cry out. She pushed her chest at him, trying to get more of her into his mouth. He couldn't resist complying, especially when it elicited more gasps and screams. He pressed his tongue on her nipple, then snaked it to the underside of the breast, and then settled on suckling intently with his lips.

When he repeated the gesture on her other breast, he could feel her losing her balance. He cupped the free breast with one hand and used the other to stroke her smooth back, gently setting her down on the bed. He never broke contact between his mouth and her nipples as positioned himself over her, supported on his arms. He heard her moan, but the moan sounded….different. Before he could think about what this could mean, he felt her legs wrap around him and her rounded arse brushing his erection. He moaned at the sensation, sending vibrations around the captured point and inspiring another moan in turn from her.

Trembling, she pushed him down on the bed. As Neville raised his head to ask what was the matter, Hermione had already grasped his member and sank her head on him

Well, this was unusual . he thought. She didn't go down on him that often. He usually didn't ask her to, and she only recently had begun to experiment with it. He didn't have much time to think, however, and Hermione's tongue and lips went to their wicked work. Her lips pulled on the taut skin, her hot tongue swirled around him; it took all he had not to climax in her mouth. The gentle suckle turned into a hard pull, devouring him. Neville cried out, barely able to hold on. And then he felt her swallow him entirely, from tip to base encompassed by her mouth. It was too much. With a scream he came hard in a single burst, tensed, and suddenly relaxed.

As he tried to blink away the stars dancing in front of his eyes, she wrapped her fingers around his penis again, trying to move it into position in a desperate attempt to bring it back to life.

"Hermione, I though you wanted me to go down on you before that?" he raised his head from her cleavage.

Hermione's expression turned from pleasure to confusion to eagerness at the idea, as if he had proposed it to her for the first time. Her eyes flashed and her lips curled into an excited smile, and she nodded to indicate that's exactly what she wanted him to do. Relieved, Neville gave her nipples each a goodbye kiss and moved down, leaving a trail of nips and kisses down her torso along the way.

He remember her expression when he first asked if he could kiss her most private region. She taught him where she wanted to be touched with his lips, how he should kiss her, and what exactly what to do. His kisses hit the places he had always kissed. His tongue traced the same path around her lower lips and around her clitoris that it had always taken. He felt her hands and thighs trap him in place as she arched his hips into his face. The feeling of being entrapped by her….it was brilliant.

She tasted brilliant, too. He felt moisture on his face; her moisture, just for him. Neville gave her a long lick. He could hear Hermione moan, and despite it sounding unusual, it was still a moan that told him he was doing something right. He rubbed his face on the inside of each of her thighs, not only for the sensation of the soft skin but also to tease out a reaction. He heard a gasp of surprise and felt the thighs squeeze down on him.

Her hands trailed through his hair, fixing him in place. To his surprise, Hermione rolled over, flipping him with her. Hermione then crawled up the bed, still pinning his head between her legs and against the mattress. It's not that Neville never took this position, but her sudden aggression was something he had only seen out of her lately. Feeling rather daring himself, he dragged his tongue over each of her outer folds before slipping it in between them, and then curved the very tip to caress the underside of her clitoris.

Neville sighed in pleasure at the feeling and taste, sending vibrations into her. He could feel her intense heat, taste her flowing juices, and hear her erratic breathing as she grew closer and closer to orgasm. Just as he felt her begin to twitch, she got off his face. All he could see was her thighs circling his head as she turned around, and then her round, perfect arse as she slid down his body. Before he could ask what she was doing, Hermione had reached his hips and lowered herself onto his prick.

He was hard and ready for her, but Neville couldn't help but gasp in surprise. She wasn't fond of this position, and she didn't go this fast. Still, he met her, eager to feel her again. His hands traced up and down her back then massaged her bum as she began to bounce on him. He didn't like this position much either. It was like one of those classes where he had to sit in front of her or if Dean or Ron sat between him and Hermione. He had to trust her, had to trust himself without her.

And it's hard not to trust someone who was having intense sex with him. Neville thrust his hips up to meet her downward strokes, putting his weight on his elbows in order to raise himself. She liked that, apparently, and he could make out her head leaning back. In all this confusion, he had forgotten about her hair. He remembered the first time it brushed him, during transfigurations. Hermione had turned away to talk to Ron about something, and the hair grazed his hand accidentally. One of the first things he did when she told him to put his hands on her was to run his fingers through her curly mane.

The memories egged him on. He had sex with her many times in the previous weeks, more than any other time besides their honeymoon, and this time he realized why the sudden sex craze. The night when Hermione bound him to their bed got him thinking. And each thought made him buck his hips into her. She seemed to have realized how much control she had over him. Sometimes she was overbearing. His pelvis went up at the thought. She had teased him with her power. Up he went again. She had made him feel like a shiny trophy belonging to the world's greatest Quidditch coach. Up again, this time his cock going deep in one motion.

Hermione leaned back, her hands moving from his thighs to the bed to support her weight. Every time at school that she smiled at him made Neville feel like he was obliged to reciprocate. He'd pay her back in orgasms. She leaned back more, inch by inch as he entered her deeper. Neville reached up, stroking her back then snaking around to cup her breasts and gently squeeze them. He kept his grip, even as she arched and writhed around him.

"_Acheve! Ne s'arrêtent pas!_ _Jouiz dans moi!" _She screamed. It wasn't Hermione.

Those words could belong only to one person who would and could do this.

"NO!" Neville yelled, trying to push her off. Fleur was too absorbed in her climax to care what he said or did.

It was too late. As he put his hands on her back, her muscles clenched down on him. It was too tight, too hot, too much for him to hold on. To his horror, Neville orgasmed with the witch, pouring himself into her against his will. The despair, the exertion, the climax, and the sheer horror of what he had just done rushed into his head, and he swooned as Fleur screamed in triumph.

"I am sorry about this. This was all my idea" Hermione-no, it wasn't Hermione- woke him up.

"Oh Fleur, what have I done? Hermione will never forgive me. I'm so sorry. What have you done? What have I done?" Neville stared at the wall of the bedroom. His voice cracked as he burst into tears, "I-I-I should've known…h-h-how could you do this to me?"

"Neville?" What would logically be Hermione's voice came from the next room.

"Hermione, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry" he whispered, unwilling to get up and greet her.

"Neville, I knew about this. Fleur never could have done this if I didn't agree to it. We wanted to experiment, and now I'm sorry about it."

"So what now? Did you run off with Bill?" the wizard spat bitterly, still not moving from the bed.

"No, he's out of the country right now. Fleur sent him an owl a week ago and he said he thought it would be funny. I'm sorry we didn't tell you about it."

"Would it help you if I told you why I wanted to do this?"

Silence.

"I enjoyed seeing the two of you, and I wanted to take Hermione's place. It's my fault" Fleur admitted

"And I wanted to take a body that didn't embarrass me" Hermione added.

Still no response.

"Neville, get up"

"No"

"Get. Up. Now. I'm trying to apologize for this"

Automatically, he jumped to attention at her tone of voice.

"Hermione, I don't know what to say", looking at where the voice came from.

Fleur and Hermione were standing at the foot of his bed. Hermione was naked, and Fleur was wearing a low-cut, semi-transparent blue dress. That wasn't confusing; it was when Fleur spoke in Hermione's accent and tone.

"Thank you. Now, are you all right? We're mature adults here. We're not in Hogwarts anymore"

"Polyjuice?" he managed to speak.

"Yes. Hermione, I keep telling you. You have a beautiful body" "Hermione" turned to "Fleur"

"I agree" Neville added.

Hermione blushed.

"Neville, can you forgive me?"

"Only if I can try your new body" his tone suddenly lightened.

His wife sighed in relief. Fleur grinned at each of them in turn.

"Oh, and before you go" She said to the man she had just tricked, "you were wonderful"

"I agree" Hermione smirked,, "Now, could you let us have some privacy?"

"If you're all right with that".

With that, Fleur left the room and closed the door behind her.

"Hermione, why did you do this? You know I love you for who you are. I married you, not Fleur", Neville sighed as he got off the bed to embrace his wife.

"Well, I wanted to try it. I wanted to feel beautiful. To be someone like Fleur", she rested her head on his chest.

"How many times have I said you were beautiful? I lost count just thinking about it in class" he stroked the blonde tresses before raising her head to kiss her. She was taller than before, but not by much.

"Now that I think about it, the whole thing's rather silly, isn't it?" Hermione grinned sheepishly.

"Fleur certainly got something out of it"

"I'd like something out of it, you know" the grin turned into a smirk.

Neville kissed her again. "There"

"More than that" Despite her new features, Hermione's eye-rolls were unmistakable.

"I did just finish with Fleur a little while ago" he protested, his insincerity shown by his sucking and kissing her neck.

"Neville, you're better than that. Seventh year you showed me exactly how much stamina you had"

"Please don't talk about it. I don't want to remember that year" he looked up from nuzzling her cleavage.

"I want to forget it, too. I won't talk about it." Hermione kissed him on his forehead as he kissed the exposed flesh of her breasts.

"Could you untie this thing? I like it, but I want this off" she spun around to give Neville her back.

Hermione's husband couldn't resist kissing her bare back, sucking on the skin on the back of her neck before trailing his lips down to her lower back to the line of her dress, his hands in turn running along the curves of her perfect arse.

"You like my new body?" She closed her eyes, sighing at the sensation.

"It's not the one I love, but it's magnificent on you" Neville left one more kiss on her back as he undid the ties on the back of her dress and moved up to nuzzle the straps off her shoulders.

He then stepped back as Hermione finally slipped the dress off.

Fleur's body was a piece of art. Very different from Hermione, but very similar at the same time. To tell the truth, Neville had never been very attracted to Fleur. While Ron had overlooked Hermione to swoon over Fleur, Neville had been too busy trying to get Hermione's attention. Hermione was a Veela in her own way.

It wasn't the body he worshiped, but it was worth the worship all the same.

"It's an improvement." Hermione beamed at him.

"Have it your way" Neville sighed as she moved in for a kiss.

"I always do-oh!"-Her smugness was interrupted by his long suckle on her neck.

He kissed his way down her body, pausing to take a nipple in his mouth. Fleur's were lighter in color, with wider aureoles and smaller tips on larger, heavier breasts. They were still delicious, and Hermione's gasp showed they were just as sensitive.

"That's it?" she asked as Neville pulled back to kiss the flesh below, a disappointed expression on her face.

"Oh, I'll be back. Don't you like this?" He punctuated with another kiss.

"Oh yes" she closed her eyes, unable to protest any more.

He continued down her body, kneeling to kiss her belly and navel, but she pulled him up for a kiss and turned around to lean back against him. To tease him, she rubbed her knickers-clad bottom against his erection. As she leaned back, she placed his hands on her abdomen, which he obediently caressed with his palms. Inch by inch, those hands crept up the smooth belly, each motion causing a shiver to rock Hermione's (or was it Fleur's?) body.

"I love the way you use your hands" Hermione moaned as Neville's fingertips tickled the bases of her breasts.

Neville wasn't sure what he enjoyed more, the feeling of the soft lower curves of her breasts resting in his palms, or the moan from Hermione's lips. Even after he gently pulled upwards and squeezed gently, Hermione's soft cry responding in kind, he still couldn't decide.

"Whenever I see you patting down the soil, I always picture your hands on my skin. When you run your hands through the soil, I think it's my hair. I love this new body of mine-take all of it" She gasped out as she put her hands on his, squeezing harder and leaning her head back.

He could spend an eternity like this-feeling the soft spheres in his hands and tasting her exposed throat as she moaned and gasped. She felt wonderful, tasted better, and sounded ever better. For some reason, he didn't have a problem that it was Fleur's body. It was still Hermione under there, still his wife feeling the pleasure, his wife's voice crying out her love.

"I want more" she whispered as he gently squeezed again. Reluctantly, Neville let go long enough for Hermione to lie down on the bed, staring up at him with absolute hunger. Even with a different face, Neville knew that look. It was the look she gave him when she whipped him. It was the look she gave him when he disrobed in front her for the first time, and it was a look he couldn't resist.

He sat down beside her on the messy bed, and leaned down for a kiss. Neville would always kiss her before doing anything else. Hermione counted on it, and she deserved it. Even with Fleur's lips, Hermione's kisses would never be missed if Neville had something to say about it.

"Where should I start?" he asked her.

"You know me" Hermione suggested

"Then this should make your toes curl-" Neville smiled, then sucked on her neck.

"Oh yes" She sighed

"How about this?" With that, he planted kisses around the curves of each of her breasts, then sucking on the rounded slopes.

"You know I love that" Hermione gasped in pleasure. Neville loved that sound. He knew Hermione loved to have her nipples sucked on, but he in turn loved to torment her, to taste every bit of her flesh to drive her crazy. He lick, kissed, nipped, and sucked on her white, rounded breasts, but avoided the nipples.

"Neville, please!" She begged.

That was the signal. First the very tip of his tongue, then his lips, then his hungry mouth made contact with one of the hardened points. Hermione arched her body, giving her body over to him, wanting him to suckle as much as possible. He obliged, taking in the offered breast. It had a different size and shape than her own, but as long as they were hers, Neville could do this for an eternity.

It was only when he heard her familiar cry of orgasm, feel her muscles tense under his fingers, and feel her grip on his head relax and push him downward, that he moved to the soft, flat plain of her stomach. He did so as slowly as possible, but she didn't seem to mind. She told him many times she enjoyed how slow he did things, and he made each little nip, lick, and suck seem to take an eternity

His hands joined his mouth, but only momentarily as they first darted up to press the neglected breasts, then down to caress her still-clothed hips.

"Should I eat you again?" He looked up from her heaving belly.

"Again? That was Fleur, not me. And I want you to do to me what you did to her, and that means everything"

"If this was schoolwork, I'd take a break by now" Neville nuzzled the belly button.

"You're a better st-Ah! S-s-student than-than-oh!" Hermione couldn't finish speaking due to the tip of Neville's tongue circling and then diving in to lick up and down the vertical cleft of her navel.

"Maybe we shouldn't talk" He chuckled as he pulled the knickers off.

"This is the best-AH!-use for-OH!-your mouth" she was interrupted again as he returned to her flat stomach and kissed his way down her mound. As he nuzzled her tawny golden pubic hair, Hermione had a thought.

"Neville, did you try to ask out Fleur like Ron did?"

"No. I had you in mind the whole time. I thought that while Ron could be with Fleur, I'd have a shot with you. Viktor got there first"

"Oh. So you're not enjoying this?"

"I didn't say that. Fleur's beautiful, and as long as it's really you in that body and you're enjoying this….aren't you?"

"I never faked an orgasm. I don't know how"

"In that case-" He stopped talking to kiss below her opening.

This time he didn't stop. He just kept going-kissing, licking, tasting the area around her. He suckled on each lip, laving them with his tongue. He heard Hermione scream and cry out as he plunged his tongue into her vagina, probing deep and pressing as hard as he could into her before licking up her juices. Each lick he re-assured himself that this was Hermione. This was the only friend he had at first. This was the shy, bucktoothed girl who helped him look for Trevor when they first met. This was the same girl who gave him the help and support he needed at Hogwarts. This was the girl he longed to tell that he loved, but never did. The same girl who, even when she was presumed dead and he was suffering at the hands of murderers, kept him alive and gave him the spirit to fight. The same girl who ran into his arms one rainy night sobbing and told him she loved him. This was Hermione.

And she loved him. He still couldn't believe it. No matter how many times he heard her cry out his name, Neville felt as if he was living in a dream. Well, if it was a dream, he didn't want to wake up.

"Finish me! Don't stop! "

Putting his mouth on her clitoris, he took a moment to look up at her face while keeping in contact. Her smooth belly was tensing, her breasts heaving with each shuddering breath, but he looked past the body. Fleur's face was contorted her neck arched to throw her head back, her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth open in a gasp. He kept in mind that this was his wife, his beloved Hermione. He had seen her, touched her, and tasted her many times before. This was no different.

With that though, he gave her clitoris one last suck and held on to her hips in anticipation of what happened next. Right on cue, she came. He struggled to keep his grip on as she bucked her hips into his face, determined to devour her to the very end and suck her dry. He was used to this. It was all part of that lovely routine. He would hold on until she stopped moving and caught her breath, and then he would talk to her and ask her if she wanted anything more.

"Oh yes. I mean, if you're up to it and you're not too tired"

"You're not tired?"

"Never for you"

"Same here"

"I love you, Neville"

"I love you, Hermione"

No sooner than he sat up, Hermione on him, kissing him into a daze.

"You're not too tired" he concluded, and then kissed her in kind as he grabbed her hips and lowered her onto him.

She didn't speak, communicating her intent by wrapping her long legs around his waist and driving himself deeper into him with a thrust of her hips. She only broke her gaze into his eyes to cry out as Neville drove even deeper into her, using his grip on her soft buttocks to grind her hips on his. He felt her clench around him, but this time he was ready and didn't lose his control.

He knew her rhythm, and began the series of thrusts that drove her wild. Putting his hands on Hermione's smooth back, he drew her to him, buried his face in her chest, and pumped as hard as he could into her. Hermione didn't put up a fight; she cried out in pleasure, gasping out wordlessly. She was beyond words now-only actions mattered, and she communicated her desires well enough for him to understand.

Even so, Neville had to admit he couldn't last too long. He was quickly losing control, but was determined to make Hermione come with him. He thrust in harder, sending her reeling backwards in shock. Before she could recover, he returned to her chest, sucking quickly on one nipple and then the other. When this made her throw back her head and moan loudly, he repeated the gesture, this time just as he went into her again.

He felt Hermione's grasp tighten and then let go. It was obvious she was losing control herself: when he moved up to kiss her neck, she only had the presence of mind to kiss him again before Neville plunged into her body so hard she began to fall backwards. This time, he couldn't control. He threw himself into her, going deep into her warmth in a frenzy of strokes. There was a white flash like he was hit with a stunner, but Neville was used to that. Both getting stunned and orgasming.

Hermione screamed, her arms reaching around him and pulling his head to her chest. He loved this feeling. The feeling of her arms tightened around his head, her legs around his hips, her inner muscles around his prick; it was something he could never get tired of, even with Hermione's new body.

She leaned back one more time, than came. It wasn't a violent orgasm. It wasn't a loud one. She was much louder leading up to it. Still, he felt her shudder around him, then settle down as he panted into her cleavage.

"It wasn't any better than usual, you know" Neville whispered

"That's because you set a high standard" Hermione kissed the top of his head

"I wasn't complaining. I don't complain" He kissed her chest in return

"If you did, I'd still do this anyway"

With that, they collapsed on the bed, still facing each other. Their gaze never broke.

"Hermione, I'd like to make a rule for once"

"I was hoping you would eventually"

"Please don't play with polyjuice again."

"What about these…surprises I keep giving you?"

"Oh, those can keep on coming"

The end.


End file.
